


merry hanukkah!

by Bookreader525



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, One Shot, Until Dawn Secret Santa 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 20:23:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17148509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookreader525/pseuds/Bookreader525
Summary: "We might have our differences," he says, pausing for a chuckle, taking her hand and spinning her around, "but whether you celebrate Christmas, or Hanukkah, or whatever holiday you do, there's one thing in common: snow.""In Los Angeles?"





	merry hanukkah!

**Author's Note:**

> hey! i signed up to be an "emergency elf" for the gift exchange this year, and i was happy to write this lil' fic for [polarizedhartley](https://polarizedhartley.tumblr.com/) on tumblr. i have never written a one shot specifically for chris and ash, but i do love them with all my heart so i tried my best with this. i hope everyone enjoys and has an awesome holiday, no matter what you celebrate!

It is with great reluctance that Chris turns the steering wheel to the right, straight into the direction of confusion. His truck, a dark green Ford pickup he'd named "Betty" (out of affection or loneliness, he'd never tell), shudders over a bump in the pavement and rolls down into the nearly full parking lot. He pumps the brake and slides into an open spot between a minivan unloading a literal clan of kids and a couple struggling to balance a tree on the roof of their too-small sedan.

Chris sits back and sighs, then plasters on the grin that never fails to cover up his inner insecurities.

Next to him, Ashley is buzzing with excitement in the passenger seat. She is literally trembling— although that might just be because the heat on her side of the dashboard is broken. Still, though, he  _had_  angled all his vents toward her when she wasn't looking.

"Okay… ready?" he asks, uncertainty causing the latter word to taper off awkwardly. She glances at him, nods, and he kills the engine. He jumps out and rushes around to her door to open it for her, but she's forgone his potential gentlemanly helping hand and already hopped down herself. He scratches behind his head.  _Strike one_ , he scolds himself, despite Ashley looking quite unbothered.

They wander over to the tree lot, and he resists letting out a whistle when he spots the price tag on one. They're in California, not Florida; it's not like these trees have an uptick in price for every mile they travel. So why are all these at least upward of thirty bucks?

"So, um…" Ashley stands, blinking up at him for a moment, then decides to continue. "You, uh… you know how this works, right?" He opens his mouth, and she immediately releases a flurry of sorries. "Sorry, sorry… I shouldn't assume just because you're Jewish that you don't know what a Christmas tree is. Sorry."

"Hey, it's fine," he says, chuckling a little. "Yes, I do know what a Christmas tree is. Do I necessarily understand  _why_ you gotta bring a tree inside your house? No. But that's not what's important."

She stares at him a few more seconds, then ducks her head. "Sorry," she mumbles one last time for good measure before spinning around and disappearing underneath a canopy of evergreen.

It's their first holiday (holidays?) as a couple, and as a couple living together. They started dating soon after New Year's last year, then kind of rushed into the whole moving in together thing. Don't get Chris wrong— he loves having a roomie with benefits. Yet he can't help but feel a little concerned when it seems like every square inch of their apartment will be covered in red and green. As in, zero space to even fit in a menorah somewhere. And, as just about the most awkward person to ever have existed, Chris can't exactly just…  _mention_ this to her.

So he ducks into the ocean of pine needles, and finds Ash examining a tiny tree that matches her height. "This one's pretty cute," she observes, walking around it with appraising eyes. "And for once I could be the one to put the star on top!" She stands on her toes and taps the uppermost branch.

Chris looks down at the tree. "Looks like a mere sapling to me," he says, adopting an exaggerated haughty tone.

"Oh, shush." She shuffles onward, and he almost loses her again; thank god for brightly-colored beanies. The particular one she's wearing today has bold red and green stripes with little Christmas trees lining the bottom and a candy-red pom-pom on top.

This affair ends up taking far longer than Chris could've ever imagined. How silly of him to think this would be like get in, get tree, get out. They roam along the rows, examining tall trees, short trees, skinny trees, fat trees, emerald green trees, frosty blue trees, soft trees, spiky trees. Ashley flies around like a bird trying to decide which tree will be perfect to nest in. Chris trudges around with his hand on his phone in his pocket, trying to decide if it would be rude to text Josh right about now.

Then, at last, they settle on one. It's only slightly taller than Chris, since they had to keep in mind the limited height in the apartment. It has bristly needles, but not the kind that'll draw blood during ornament hanging. They stand and watch the guy push it into the netting, then haul it into the bed of the truck.

"Oh, by the way," Chris says after a few minutes on the road. "My parents really want to meet you."

"Oh." Out of the corner of his eye, he can see her wringing her hands like a damp wash cloth. "Okay."

"Okay?" He spares her a swift glance. "So you want to?"

"Um." She combs through her hair with shaky fingers. "Sure."

* * *

 

Later, they're curled on the couch drinking hot chocolate. The tree twinkles in the corner of the room, its bright lights fighting the brightness of the nearby TV screen. Chris watches the marshmallows bob and swirl in his mug and says, "They wanna meet you Saturday night for dinner. At their house."

Her hair tickles his arm as she shifts against him. "I think I work that night."

"Hmm," Chris mumbles. He's too tired to try and debate with her. His parents have wanted to meet her for months. Somehow, she always ends up working instead.

* * *

 

"Dude, you know that's cheating, right?" Josh tosses the game controller to the side and leans forward to swipe a tortilla chip through the guacamole.

"How did I cheat?" Chris asks, snorting. "I just won. I didn't cheat to win."

"Well, I lost, and to that I say: you cheated." Josh pops the chip in his mouth and sits back again. The tired old couch sags under his weight.

A brief period of comfortable silence blankets them, and Chris's eyes drift over to the window. He almost expects to see a few snowflakes falling, and the window panes all frosty. But that would be ridiculous— they're in L.A. If anything, they would be more likely to see ash falling from the latest nearby wildfire.

He sets down his controller as well and stares at the PlayStation's loading screen. "Hey, dude… I actually was wondering if you could give me some advice."

Josh nearly chokes on his next guac-loaded chip. He swallows a few times, coughs, pounds his chest, then manages to rasp out, "Why the fuck would you ask  _me_ for advice?"

"I'm desperate."

"Well." Josh considers. He chugs down the rest of his Coke. "Advice on what?"

Chris scratches behind his head, and right away Josh points at him, all accusatory. "A- _ha_! You're having some trouble with Ashley."

"What?" Chris jerks his arm back down. "How do you know?"

"You always scratch your head like a damn monkey whenever we talk about her."

"Okay. That's fair." Chris drums his lap and chews his lip a little. "Okay, well… for some reason, I'm getting the feeling she doesn't want to meet my parents. Somehow she always has to work on the nights we're supposed to have dinner with them or something. It's like we've hit a road block, because up until now everything has been fine. And the next, like, logical step is her meeting my parents, right? It's a big step, but it makes sense. I met her dad already, and after ten minutes he no longer had a murderous look in his eyes, so…"

Josh pulls his legs up onto the sofa and crosses them. "Bro, I can't believe you're asking  _me_  about this. Sam rejected me in favor of my sister. And the worst part about it, she's hella bi, so I did have a chance. I don't know shit about girls, man."

"Just shut up and say what you think," Chris snaps. The words come out harsher than he had intended, but at least it gets Josh to stop lamenting about himself for a few seconds.

His friend lets out a long, slow sigh. Agitation builds up in Chris's nerves, but it all melts away when Josh speaks. "You know how Ash is… you especially know her better than the rest of us now. She's probably just nervous about it, dude."

"Either that, or she realized she hates me and can't think of a good way to break it off."

Josh lets his head loll on the back cushion of the couch. His eyes focus on the skylight way above them in the ceiling. Chris squints up at it too, and imagines he can see a star to wish on. "Don't worry too much about it, bro," Josh says.

* * *

 

Ashley isn't exactly making millions working at the ice cream shop, but it's something that gives her a solid paycheck every two weeks, and as a college student that is a blessing. Still, as Chris— who has secured a paid internship at a high-profile tech company— stands and watches her put on her cheaply-made uniform, he can't help but feel she deserves better.

"So. Couldn't get anyone to, uh, cover your shift, huh?" He steps up behind her and wraps his arms around her pilled old t-shirt and red apron.

"No. I couldn't. I'm sorry." Her short, choppy sentences set off alarm bells in his head, but he lets it go. He watches her grab her visor and name tag, then says, "Wait."

She pauses at the front door. The apologetic smile perched on her lips is a blade on his throat. "Hon, I have to go now or I'll be late."

"Hey, the screaming little kids can wait a few extra minutes for their ice cream. If people are seriously still in the mood for ice cream in December."

"Well, they are, so—"

He leans down and snatches up a present from underneath the tree. He places it in her unintentionally outstretched arms.

She blinks down at it, then up at him, then down, then up again. It's as if she isn't sure what to do with it, what it's for. What's a bow if not to be ripped off? What's wrapping paper— light blue, with little scarf-clad penguins all over it— if not to be torn away? What's a gift if not to be cherished? He stares at her, willing her to unwrap it and see what's really underneath.

"Love," Chris says softly after a confused minute. "During Hanukkah, we open presents during eight consecutive nights, not all on one night. This is my first gift to you."

Ashley licks her lips and sets down her car keys. She tucks her fingers under a flap of wrapping paper and pulls it away. When it's opened, it's a book— of course. Ashley = books. She laughs, her eyes lighting up. "I mentioned I wanted to read this, like, back in May."

He nods eagerly.

"Then I read it."

He nods a little less eagerly.

"But now I get to own it. And read it again and again." She looks up at him. "Thank you, Chris."

He wants to freeze this moment, squeeze it into a little glass bottle and place it on a shelf. Whenever he is down, he could just pull off the cork and release this moment again, her smile and her face and her eyes like green pools of want and apology.

She stands on her toes and plants a sweet kiss on the edge of his jawbone. Then she's gone.

* * *

 

He can almost see her through the fogged-up glass, reaching into the freezer arms-deep to plop a couple scoops of cotton candy into a Styrofoam bowl. He massages Betty's steering wheel as if it's his own heart, which could admittedly use some massaging. It's been feeling a little stressed lately.

Next to him is Josh, and in the back of the small cab are Sam, Beth, and Mike. "We're really doing this, huh?" Mike sighs and shakes his head. "You guys are crazy. Beth just… asked Sam out. Now they're together. Matt just… put his arm around Jess at the movies one time. Now they're together. Chris and Ash are already together. It doesn't have to be, like, a whole… extravagant…  _thing_."

"And that's why you're single, Mike," Sam says. She kicks open her door and Beth, sandwiched in the middle, lets out a breath of relief.

"Let's just get this over with," she mutters.

"Yes, get it over with, and see the hashtag best proposal of the year!" Josh beams, punching Chris in the arm.

"I'm not proposing, bro," he clarifies.

"Okay, fine, but when the day comes… you can always practice on me," Josh says. His smooths his sweater over his chest and bats his eyelashes at Chris; a very poor portrayal of Ashley. "We'll call it… a  _bro_ posal."

"Shut up, Josh," Mike says.

"Yeah, shut the hell up, bro," Beth adds, her mimicry of her brother's voice spot-on.

A few minutes later, the group has taken all the necessary equipment out of the truck bed. Mike and Josh manage to prop up a ladder against the side of the building, which luckily has a flat roof.

"So, which poor sucker is gonna be the one to climb up there?" Mike asks, standing with crossed arms and a furrowed brow.

"Well, Sam and Beth are the mountain climbers, sooo…" Josh backs away from the ladder and eyes the girls meaningfully.

Chris shakes his head. "Okay, I'll leave you guys to argue about that. Just know that I will pay whoever goes up there fifty bucks." Then he enters the ice cream shop right as the yells behind him intensify.

The bell attached to the door rings cheerfully, and right away Ash glances up. A flicker of surprise flashes on her face, then disappears.

Chris is glad to kill some time by standing in line, because knowing his friends, none of them are exactly rushing to an agreement out there. When he reaches the front, he says, "I just decided, actually, I'm not in the mood for ice cream."

Ashley blinks at him. She tosses a bundle of red hair, tucked neatly into a ponytail, over her shoulder. "Well, that's not good."

"I know, I know. I'm terrible." Chris scratches behind his head. "Hey, you think you could join me outside for a sec?"

"Uh…" Ashley laughs, and words tumble out of her mouth. "You know I can't just walk out of work, right?"

"Yeah, but it'll only be a sec." He purposefully draws out the emptiness following his words, leaning closer to her over the counter as a million particles of sweet-scented air fill their lungs. He loves how her hair smells like chocolate ice cream when she comes home after a shift. That's the only damn benefit of this job.

Defeated, she calls to her coworker that she'll be a minute, then she hops over the counter in as athletic a way as a duck would, and follows him back outside.

It's sixty degrees and it's snowing. Chris catches a snippet of giggles from around the corner, but he pays it no mind.

"What… how…" Ashley spins around in the unreal flurry, catching flakes in her hair and on her bare arms. He almost wants to hand her a pair of ear muffs and some boots so she'll fit into the scene more.

But then he realizes— no. She blends seamlessly into every single scene. Just like when she reads, she imagines herself as the protagonist. And he likes when they're lying in bed and she reads him a story out loud, like they're kids and they'll wake up to no worries tomorrow. He watches his girlfriend spin in the snow in southern California and wonders what too good to be true could possibly mean.

"We might have our differences," he says, pausing for a chuckle, taking her hand and spinning her around, "but whether you celebrate Christmas, or Hanukkah, or whatever holiday you do, there's one thing in common: snow."

"In Los Angeles?" She twinkles up at him. Inside the shop, her coworker watches them curiously.

He bends down and touches his lips to her ear. "Look up."

Together, their gazes travel up to the roof of the small building, where Josh cheerfully flips them off with one hand and waves with the other. Next to him on the roof is a fake snow machine, spitting out millions of imagined little miracles.

"Aw, Chris," she murmurs, her voice shakier than a newborn fawn taking its first steps. "Thank you for this. Really. I needed it."

Then she brings her lips to his, and everything makes sense again. They kiss gently, with certainty, tongues moving in rhythm, hands on her waist, in her hair, pulling closer, artificial snow brushing past skin.

"I'm nervous I'll disappoint your parents," she says suddenly when they break apart. "I know they have very high expectations for you."

"They've heard me talk about you for years, Ash. To them, you've been my friend Ashley. A- and trust me, when they hear you're now my girlfriend Ashley, they'll go crazy. In a good way."

She doesn't say anything for a minute or two, just leans into him. And that's enough. Their first Christmas, or Hanukkah, or whatever this is as a couple hasn't been perfect, but then again, perfect is not what Chris aspires to be. And he has a feeling that she feels likewise.


End file.
